The Last Marauder
by Gryffindorable
Summary: After Sirius dies,Remus doesn't know how he will go on. Who will help him? Terrible summary, hopefully better story. NTxRL, obviously. Read and let me know what you think. T for some language.


The Last Marauder

_The children are okay – that's all that matters_, Remus thought. _They're all safe at Hogwarts. That is _all_ that matters._ It was true – nothing had happened to any of the teenagers that Madam Pomfrey couldn't fix in half a heartbeat. They were all safe. _Harry_ was safe.

That's all Sirius would have cared about.

Remus couldn't do it, couldn't stand in the middle of the Atrium with the lot of insufferable prats who hadn't even believed that Voldemort was back until an hour before, pretending he wasn't mourning the loss of a childhood friend – his last one.

"Excuse me," he muttered to the irritating reporter that had stuck a Quick Quotes Quill in his face. Remus made his way out of the Ministry. Almost no one noticed his departure, and he didn't notice the shadow that broke away from the crowd and followed him. He didn't notice it tailing him as he made his way through the streets of Muggle London, doing his best not to cry.

Remus couldn't take it anymore. He staggered into the nearest alleyway – not caring that it smelled worse than goblin piss – and collapsed. He let the sobs take over his body as he came to a sobering realization.

He was the last Marauder.

Remus John Lupin was the only member left of the most notorious, fun-loving group of pranksters in the history of Hogwarts, even if he had always been the most studious of them.

First Wormtail had turned on them, betrayed his only school friends, who knows when. Remus had no idea what caused him to do it, but there was definitely no way that Peter Pettigrew could be called a Marauder, not anymore – not after what he did.

Remus wanted to kill him.

Then there was Prongs, killed defending Lily and their son, both of whom had been loved by all of the Marauders – well, three-quarters of them, anyway. Remus had seen their – their... _bodies_ laying amid the debris and colorful Muggle Halloween decorations, a smile never again to grace James's charming face. Lily, the little sister of the group – the Marauder_ette_ – would never laugh again, or have pointless fights with the husband she loved so much., or rattle off random, obscure facts that only she and Remus had ever payed attention to. They had both given up their little Harry, the son they adored. He knew neither of them would ever have regretted it, but still...

Remus missed them.

And Padfoot... Merlin, Remus had thought he had lost Sirius fourteen years earlier. He had never really believed that Padfoot had – _could have_ – betrayed James and Lily and killed Peter, but what other choice had he had? Sirius may have been thick as thieves with the other Marauders from the moment they first stepped onto the Hogwarts Express, but only the Marauders and Dumbledore knew the location of the Potters' Godric Hallow home. It wasn't Remus, it _couldn't_ have been _Dumbledore_, and he thought Peter was _dead_ – who could it have been other than Sirius?

Remus had been overjoyed to learn that Sirius actually _was_ innocent, that _Peter_ – always the most traitorous and least committed Marauder – had framed him. Remus had thought he could spend the rest of his life with Sirius, with his last childhood friend, until they both died of old age.

But no. All Remus got was two years – two _measly_ years in which Padfoot had to remain in hiding, holed up in his own house.

For the Marauders, life had always been great, one laugh after another. They had helped everyone they knew forget the war brewing outside the gates of Hogwarts, brought a – albeit, temporary – sense of peace to everyone they met – while still firing off a hex or two at future Death Eaters before things escalated to the Killing Curse. Life was the _closest_ _damn_ _thing_ to perfect in this _bloody_ world.

It wasn't supposed to be like this.

He didn't notice his shadow detach itself from the darkness that hugged the alley walls. He barely noticed two arms wrapping around him, lifting his head up. He might not have even noticed the words his shadow whispered into his ear.

"It's going to be alright, Remus, it's going to be just fine. Eventually."

After a while, his sobs subsided – just slightly, but enough so Remus could look up into the face of Nymphadora Tonks.

"It'll never be alright, Dora," he said, staring into her eyes. "It can't be."

"No, I don't suppose it will be," she admitted, sinking down into a sitting position while still holding him up. "But Sirius wouldn't want us to think like that, wouldn't want us to _grieve_ for him. He'd want us to move on and live life and _kick_ Voldemort's _arse_ into outer space – to _Pigfarts_ – for _him_. For _Sirius_. We'll always remember him, Remus, but he would want us to MOVE ON."

For the first time, Remus realized her hair was dark brown, as opposed to its usual bubblegum pink. Shock, he supposed, and grief. For the first time, Remus realized that she was the one person that could truly understand what he was going through – well, except Harry, maybe – because she was going through it, too. Sirius had been the only other person in her Pure Blood-maniac family to realize that blood was just _blood_, and that, no matter what your lineage, it was who you _were_ that determined your value as a person. For the first time, Remus realized that Dora had just lost her favorite cousin. And, for the first time, Remus realized that they would help heal each other. Because, as much as her being there was helping _him_, her being there, helping him, was helping _her_. And he would be there for her, too.

Remus rested his head on Dora's shoulder, feeling her tears mingle with his on his cheek.

"I'll kill him," he whispered into her neck, shutting his eyes against the tears as he made a vow to the universe. "If I ever see that _bastard _Pettigrew again, I'll kill him."

Remus stayed quiet for a long time, just letting Dora comfort him, knowing it was comforting her. He might have never heard her say, "Not if I do it first."

}Õ{

It was nearly two years before Remus could fulfill his promise. In the early morning hours of May 3,1998, Remus fought in the smoldering remains of the library he had spent so much time in as a boy, fought _for_ the debris-covered floor, fought for the countless generations of future witches and wizards that he knew would grudgingly do their school work in the Hogwarts Library, under the reprimanding eye of Madam Pince, never knowing how luck they are to _have_ the Library, and for his son that would do the same. He fought for _his_ childhood.

Remus had just sent yet another Death Eater flying through the window, watching as it shattered before mending itself yet again, when Peter Pettigrew ran into the room, clearly searching for a place to hide and prepare to grovel before the Battle's victors.

A smug smile crossed Pettigrew's face as he caught sight of his old "friend", obviously thinking that Remus would be emotionally incapable of cursing his childhood mate.

Half a heartbeat and an "Avada Kadavra" later, Pettigrew was flying through the air, hitting a bookshelf before crumpling into a lifeless heap at its base. The smug sneer still marked his greasy, rat-like face, his startled and fearful eyes the only proof he ever saw the Killing Curse coming.

Remus never did. He was blind-sided barely ten seconds later.

Nymphadora Lupin saw her husband go down, and quickly took care of the masked figure that had done the deed. Just a fraction of a second before being hit by a Killing Curse she never saw coming, Dora felt a grin spread across her face as she saw the small, soft, satisfied smile that would forever remain on the face of the love of her life, her husband, Remus John Lupin.

The Last Marauder.

* * *

Okay, so you know the deal – I don't own anything Harry Potter related, aside from my Gryffindor beanie – which, I mean, I _have_ to have – it's just so... _Gryffindorable_. Anyway, ta-da! I hope you liked it, if you actually read it. I realize that this is probably _totally cliché_, but I don't usually read Tonks-Lupin romances, so I really don't know. This was just an idea that popped in my head and wouldn't stop bugging me until I wrote it out. And then I decided that as long as I had already written it, I might as well post it... Anyway, please review and tell me if you love it, or hate it, or think I should never write ever again because my writing is so terrible. Flames are not only accepted, but _appreciated_.

Thanks.

3,

Gryffindorable


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